


A Hymn for the Ascendant

by corbeaudelys



Series: A Commander's Tale [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, DONT WORRY there will be comfort in the NEXT installment, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Trahearne lives AU, i care about this big crow woman and her salad best friend okay, im a fucking liar they are 100 percent in love, remember how i said it can be viewed as strong friendship or relationship?, this is basically my 'fuck you' response to HoT, with added relationship development scenes, youll see why i put those tags in later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corbeaudelys/pseuds/corbeaudelys
Summary: "The Pact fleet has been destroyed.The words stole her breath. Her heartbeat stilled for a moment, only to rapidly increase as her companions shouted in alarm. This couldn’t be happening. They’d planned everything correctly.We don’t know the fates of Destiny’s Edge or Trahearne."Everyone has a breaking point, even the Commander of the Pact. As they traverse the jungle in search of the lost Marshal and Destiny's Edge, how long will it take for Libitira to reach her's?





	1. Torn from the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Hi readers! I'm corb and i love gw2, but im also SALTY over gw2. So i made my own story about my norn necromancer Libitira. If you want to see art of the story, memes, and maybe sneak peeks, follow me on my sideblog slayer-libitira.tumblr.com

_The Pact fleet has been destroyed._

The words stole her breath. Her heartbeat stilled for a moment, only to rapidly increase as her companions shouted in alarm. This couldn’t be happening. They’d planned everything correctly.

_We don’t know the fates of Destiny’s Edge or Trahearne._

The sounds blurred together, her vision clouding as panic settled in her chest. They’re gone, he’s gone. She should have never left his side; she should have been there with the fleet--

“Hey, boss? Boss?!” Taimi shouted to get the attention of the woman. The ringing in her ears lessened, and she looked at the six concerned faces surrounding her. All waiting for her orders.

Libitira took a deep breath. “We search the wreckage for survivors. Move out.”

* * *

“You’ll be taking on Mordremoth soon.” There were no greetings when she walked into the tent, no simple conversation when fear gripped her heart like a vice. Trahearne sighed and placed the quill down on his desk. He offered a reassuring smile as he walked toward her, but it did not to dispel the worries plaguing her. “I should be going with you.”

“You are needed elsewhere. As much as I wish you would be at my side during this battle, you must go.” Trahearne took her hands in his own, and she pressed her forehead to his. “It always pains me to see you leave, but I know you must discover the meaning behind the visions.”

For a moment Libitira was silent. She reached up behind her and undid the ribbon that kept her necklace in place. A small onyx with the picture of a raven carved onto it. She placed it in his hands and squeezed. “Promise me you will return?"

“I swear I will return to you.” He promised. “Always.”

* * *

The damage was astounding. Flames rose high in the air, painting what would be the afternoon sky red and orange, and the smoke burned her nostrils as she inhaled it. The airships were in pieces, vines tangling with the beams and tarp. It was like the forest itself reached up and yanked them out of the sky.

“How could this have happened…?” She muttered to herself.

Kasmeer hastened behind Libitira and gasped when she saw the torn airship before them. “Oh, gods… so much wreckage.”

“I was expecting carnage, but this…” Rox grimaced. “Mordremoth actually took down the entire fleet.”

“Spirits, could anyone have survived?” Libitira could see the growing panic in Braham’s eyes as he said, “We need to get down there. Fast!”

Before she could yell at him to wait, he took off. The rest had no choice but to follow as the reckless norn slid down the cliff in a rush to search the wreckage. He shouted back to them, “I see a camp! A camp means survivors, let’s go!”

“Braham!” Libitira called, “Braham, get back here!”

By the time they reached the camp, Braham was already frantically speaking with the survivors. “-I’m Eir Stegalkin’s son, I want to know where she is.”

Libitira marched up to him and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face her. “Braham, you can’t just run off like that. We are in enemy territory!”

“Is that the Commander…?” a familiar voice said. She turned to see a sylvari step toward them.

A relieved smile crossed Libitira’s face for a brief moment. “Laranthir. I’m so glad to see you survived.”

The soldier smiled, although the expression was clouded with fear. “You’re a welcome sight, Commander Libitira. The situation is grim. Mordremoth tore the fleet apart, The Pact is in ruins.”

“Where’s Marshal Trahearne? Is he here?” She asked, a hint of desperation entering her voice. She needed to know he was alive. That he was safe.

“Trahearne and Destiny’s Edge were taken prisoner.” Her blood ran cold again, and Braham caught her as she stumbled back. Laranthir continued, “They were alive, but now MIA. All remaining soldiers don’t trust me.”

Marjory snorted. “And you're surprised? Scarlet, Aerin, and now this. Mordremoth always uses sylvari to do its dirtiest dirty work.” Libitira shot a harsh glare at her.

An explorer stepped forward, a charr whose cold gaze fell on the sylvari. “We need to strengthen the defenses around here. Our priority has to be salvaging weapon parts from the crash site.”

Laranthir leveled an equally cool stare on her. “What about our comrades in the cavern, Metella? The Pact does not abandon its own.”

The charr growled and motioned to the burning wreckage of the ships. “Look around, "sir." There is no more Pact. And the prisoners you want to save are probably already dead.”

“Libi…” Braham whispered to Libitira. “If we find the prisoners, we may be able to Trahearne and Destiny’s Edge too.”

“That’s a dangerous call, Braham,” Rox reasoned. “We need to focus on what we have left-”

“No.” The Commander said firmly. “We organize a search party and find the prisoners. The more ranks the better. If you so wish, you may stay here and help set up defenses, Rox.”

Her ears pressed flat against her head, but she made no comment. Metella, however, stormed up to Libitira. “It's not worth risking more lives to save sylvari prisoners. They're already gone. Sylvari belong to Mordremoth!”

Canach moved to Libitira’s side and coolly said, “Not all of us. The lost, the weak-willed—these sylvari are vulnerable. The rest of us fight back.”

“He’s right, Metella. Mordremoth _wants_ us to turn on each other. Are you going to play right into the enemy’s hand like a damned fool?”

Metella snarled in rage, but Libitira held her ground. “ _Are you, Metella_?”

The explorer huffed, but she backed away from the Commander in defeat. “Not in this lifetime. Go on, rescue your prisoners. I'll be here, protecting the comrades I know I can trust.”

The Commander turned to the rest of the survivors. Some expressions were of fear, concern. Others showed hope as she addressed the group, “Laranthir is still your commanding officer, and I will not tolerate any mutiny today. He will be joining the search-and-rescue party. Anyone not going with us will set up defenses around the camp. Get to work!”

The soldiers saluted her and began rushing to set up turrets and scavenge for barriers. As they were about to leave, Crusader Gatt walked up to them. “If you don’t mind, Commander, I would like to join the rescue party.”

Libitira smiled. “Of course you may join. We can always use another member. Let’s go!”

Laranthir led the party out of the camp and towards the northwest, where the prisoners would be. As they walked, Taimi noticed Braham’s anxious expression and moved to walk next to him. “Don’t look so worried, Braham. Eir can take care of herself. As a wise old genius said--”

Braham interrupted her before she could continue, “Thanks, Taimi, but go easy on the asura wisdom for now. I'm a little preoccupied.”

Libitira watched the exchange, and as Taimi slowed her pace to walk with Marjory and Kasmeer instead, the commander moved up next to Braham. “How are you feeling?”

He took a deep breath. “Not good.”

“If they were taken prisoner, that means Mordremoth wants them for something. What, I don’t know. But he wants them alive.”

He nodded slowly, trying to accept her words. “... Do you think Trahearne succumbed to the call?”

Libitira’s expression turned bitter and she hissed, “Don’t be a blasphemic fool, Braham. He is much stronger than some overgrown lizard. If he was fighting, he was fighting for us.”

The conviction in her tone was enough to silence any of Braham’s doubts.

Laranthir led them down into a steep tunnel, and the roar of a river echoed off the walls. Libitira smelled blood in the air, and when she looked down she saw golden sap painting the ground and…

She knelt down and touched the black puddle with a gloved hand. Her fingertips came away red with human blood. “I thought you said these were sylvari prisoners.”

Laranthir looked unsure. “They are sylvari, but a human might have been captured with them.”

“Could it be Logan?” Kasmeer offered.

“That is plausible. Let’s keep going. The blood is fresh, so they must be nearby.” Libitira stood up again and jogged the rest of the way down to the river. She halted at the sound of footsteps, but the Mordrem had already seen the rescue team.

“There! Don’t let them reach the cages!” One of them shouted.

Libitira swore under her breath as she pulled out her staff. Four Mordrem ran at the party, brandishing their weapons. Braham charged at them with his sword raised, bashing one with the hilt and then slicing the other. A loud whistle sounded from above, and Kasmeer yelped when an arrow nicking her side. They looked up to see two snipers on the cliff, readying their next volley.

“I’ll take care of them!” Rox took aim and fired at one of the Mordrem above. The arrow pierced his chest and he tumbled over side, landing on one of the four that were attacking from below. The second sniper lined up her shot at Libitira’s head and let the arrow fly.

The whistling sound caught Canach’s attention and he dove in front of the Commander, putting up his shield just in time. The arrow pierced through the metal and he whistled, impressed. “That was a close one.”

“Thanks, Canach!” Libitira said right before casting a large poisoning well under the remaining three Mordrem. They shook as the poison flooded their systems, and Braham quickly finished them off. The sniper above yelled in frustration and fled before Rox could fire again.

Libitira turned to the group once the remaining Mordrem stopped moving. “They mentioned cages, so the prisoners are nearby. Let’s keep-”

A hoarse voice suddenly called from above. “Can anyone hear me? We're up here!”

Gatt pointed up to where the sniper was before. “It came from above us, at the top of those stairs!”

“Those must be the prisoners…” Libitira muttered and then raised her voice. “Onward!”

The group ran up the steps, coming up to a narrow passageway where Mordremoth’s vines blocked the path. They swiped at the group, but were quickly torn apart by Braham’s sword. As they jogged further, the sniper from before, now regrouped with other Mordrem, purred. “So nice of you to come to us.”

“Get us out of here!” The sylvari in the cage yelled as he slammed his hands on the vines trapping them. The only part of the other prisoner visible was their legs, pants torn and bloody and a boot missing. The foot was human.

The Mordrem charged. Libitira rolled her eyes at their advance and growled, “I don’t have time for this.”

Magic surging with her anger, her shroud formed around her, and she extended her hand. The Mordrem crumbled before they could even lay a finger on her, their life force sucked away by Libitira’s power. The few that survived her vicious attack were quickly put down by the rest of the group.

Libitira shredded the vine prison, and the sylvari stumbled out, mostly unharmed. He was wearing a familiar garb, one she hadn’t seen since Tegwen… She shook the memory out of her mind before the sadness crept in.

“Pale Reaver Azarel, at your service, Commander.” He saluted her with pride.

Before Libitira could respond, the other prisoner groaned and sat up. “Ugh… What’s going on out there Azzie?”

Azarel’s eyes widened in shock and horror. “You’re awake? I thought you were dead!”

The woman snorted as she stood fully. “You really think I’d let myself die to a damn venus flytrap? Get a grip, leaf man.”

“You’re not a Pale Reaver.” Libitira said to the human woman. The prisoner was tall, almost as tall as Libitira despite being human, with curled brown hair and mischievous hazel eyes. Although she was bruised and blood dripped from her nose, she held herself with confidence, borderline arrogance.

“That I am not. Pleasure to meet you, Commander, I am-”

“Agrona Vass.” Canach drawled, crossing his arms. Agrona’s smile widened when she noticed him, and she offered a small bow. “Finally gotten out of the Divinity’s Reach alleys, have you?”

“Finally gotten out from under Anise’s thumb, have you?” Canach tried to keep a serious face, but the cold stare quickly fell away into a grin. Agrona laughed and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “I missed you, you dumb plant.”

Libitira looked at Canach, then Agrona, then back to Canach. “You two know each other?”

“Commander, meet Agrona. Sneakthief and demolitionist superb. She was quite a thorn in Thackeray's and Countess Anise’s sides back in Divinity’s Reach.”

“Sometimes you just get bored and steal explosives to have a little fun. It’s not that bad. Plus I took out some bandits for your sorry asses.” Agrona shrugged, then winced as a crack was heard from her shoulder. “Though Canach caught me in the barracks a few times.”

“Too easily.” Agrona shoved him in the shoulder and he chuckled. “She'd serve her short sentence and then immediately be back for more. This woman never learns.”

“I can't help it! I see the bombs, I take them!”

“So you’re part of the Pact now?” The Commander asked.

“I got recruited by demolitionist Tonn after he heard about what I did to good ol’ Vic the Iron. Bastard didn’t see it coming.”

Libitira’s eyes widened. “You knew Tonn?”

Agrona nodded, and a sad look passed over her face. “Yeah, he was a great man. After his death, his wife gave me his blueprints for future weapons, and I continue his work in honor of him. I think it’s what he would’ve wanted.”

“... Thank you, Agrona.” Libitira said with a smile, despite the bitterness growing in her chest. Azarel led the group to the other prisoners, but the Commander’s thoughts were in her memories.


	2. Grief and Reminiscences

Labored, wheezing breaths echoed off the coastal cave walls, broken only occasionally by a hoarse sob. She sat against the cool stone, head pressed against her knees with her hands tangled in her hair, while Trahearne knelt in front of her.

“Deep breaths, Libitira.” He said gently, but she only shrank further into herself.

“It’s my fault. Spirits, it’s all my fault-” She cried, hands shaking. “I shouldn’t have let him go out there, I should have made him stay- Dammit, it’s my fault he’s dead! I couldn’t protect him!”

“It’s not your fault. Tonn made his choice. He did it for the Pact, to protect you-”

“But why?!” Her head snapped up and she looked at him with watery eyes. “Why me? Why is everyone so adamant on protecting me? First Sieran, now Tonn- I’m the Commander; I should be the one protecting them! Every decision I make, people die...”

“It is a burden we are doomed to carry. Lives are always lost in war. Every decision I make more soldiers are sacrificed whether for the better or the worst.” Trahearne’s eyes were haunted. He was better at hiding it, but she could tell the war was taking its toll on him as well. “We must… We must overcome our grief.”

“I just don’t want to lose anyone else...” She croaked out, no longer sobbing but tears still streamed down her cheeks. “Ever since we started this war, everyone I care about has gotten hurt. I’m worried… I’m worried you will get hurt too.”

Trahearne pulled Libitira into a tight embrace, stroking her hair as she clung to him. “I promise you I will stay by your side, Libitira. You won’t lose me; I’ll always be here for you.”

She buried her face into his shoulder, but his sincerity calmed the fears in her heart. “I’ll be here for you too, Trahearne.”

* * *

 The thought of Trahearne and Destiny’s Edge out there, caged, alone, tortured by the dragon, was almost enough to break the unfeeling mask she put up. No one noticed the cracks, not even Braham who had known her since she was little. No one except the human girl, who had seen enough of those masks to know when they were breaking.

Libitira sat a short distance away with her back to the camp the group had made as night had fallen. She held her dagger in one hand and a small chunk of wood in the other, slowly whittling it away into a shape. Agrona watched from her place next to the campfire and decided to go over to the norn.

Libitira didn’t look up when she sat next to her. She just kept staring out into the forest, knowing that somewhere the Mordrem were at work carting prisoners and corpses back to turn them into more troops and she was just sitting here doing nothing. She sliced the wood too quickly and the sharp blade bit into her thumb. She yelped as blood rose from the wound, and Agrona quickly took her finger in her hands.

“Here,” she said as she took out a small bottle from her pocket labeled “Elixir H” and poured a drop on her thumb. The cut healed instantly; not even a pink line was left behind.

“Thank you,” Libitira whispered, not meeting Agrona’s eyes. The demolitionist sighed and stared up. The canopy of the jungle covered most of the sky, but through a few pockets she could see the stars. In the city, the light pollution hid most of them from her view, but out here, where technology hadn’t touched this place, it was clear.

“I know it’s hard,” she began. Libitira looked over at her. “Not knowing whether someone you love is dead or alive.”

Libitira snorted. “More like terrifying.”

“I had a friend named Quinn.” She began, fiddling with a blade of grass. “Poor bastard always got himself in the worst situations. At one point the bandit leader Two-Blade Pete wanted him dead, and we sent him out of Divinity’s Reach to a safe place. Or so we thought. The bandits found where he was hiding and I ran seven miles to get to him before they could. Those seven miles, thirty-two minutes and forty-five seconds were the most afraid I’ve ever been. I killed every single bandit that entered the city on that night.

“I may have never met the Marshal personally, but… I think he’s going to be okay, Commander.” Agrona, prone to lying, was surprisingly being sincere when she said that. “I mean, it’s Trahearne, Marshal of the Pact. Cleanser of Orr. Some may call him a bookish, awkward sylvari, but he’s got more power than everyone thinks.”

The Commander grinned. “Believe me, I know. I’ve seen it firsthand…”

* * *

 Heavy footfalls echoed in the deep caves as Marshal and Commander led the rescued Priory scholars out of the ruins. They could hear the undead behind them, but they didn’t dare turned around. The exit was so close, just another turn…

Instead of the afternoon sunlight, what greeted them was a construct of massive bones, rising high over their heads. There was no way they’d be able to blast through it before the undead arrived. Trahearne swore under his breath. “Where did that come from? This was supposed to be our way out.”

“Another dead end,” Agent Zrii grumbled, “Militarily, I’d say we’re being funneled into a trap.”

An idea popped into Libitira’s mind. “We can go back the way we came and fight through the thrall. If I’ll just summon my minions-”

“Minions… Yes, of course!” Trahearne exclaimed, before turning to Libitira, “Commander, to me. I believe I can get us out of this situation, but I'll need you to protect me while I do it.”

Libitira walked to him and he explained, “We're trapped. But I can summon the reinforcements we need to fight our way out. This will require no small effort, but hopefully my minions will aid in our escape. Buy me some time to prepare.”

She grinned widely and patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

“The undead- They’re here!” One of the Priory scholars pointed at the small army slowly making their way toward them. Libitira rushed to the front of the group and Trahearne began his ritual. She burned a mark into the ground with her magic, and when the undead touched it they fled in unwillingly fear. That should keep them away for a little while.

Her focus was broken when the ground began to rumble. She looked behind to see Trahearne’s minions emerging from the rock, five elite flesh golems and a shadow fiend. They surrounded their master in a defensive stance, ready to take on the undead. Libitira’s bone minions looked at themselves and then the flesh golems, then hid behind her legs.

Scholar Inkblood whistled. “This Trahearne's got some real power, doesn't he? Can't wait to see him go all-out.”

“That makes all of us,” Libitira said in awe. “Trahearne, why didn’t you tell me you could do that?!”

He only shrugged, bashful. “Let’s move. We should be able to cut through with these reinforcements.”

He was right. The undead were almost too easy to cut down with the help of his golems and fiend. But as they ran back out into the ruins, a ghostly figure blocked their path. A lich.

“Dzhudin Stormbreak…” Trahearne muttered under his breath.

Dzhudin chuckled maliciously. “Welcome sylvari. Lured you here, trapped you here. Now you die here. The elements bow before me and I bow before Zhaitan. He wills your death. He shall have it.”

Trahearne pointed Caladbolg at him. “I was born to undo your master's work. If I must kill you to achieve that, _so be it_.”

The group charged as the lich’s Risen minions rose from the ground. The Priory scholars dealt with the lesser enemies while Trahearne and Libitira headed straight for Stormbreak. They attacked from either side, forcing him to split his attention in two places. The lich howled as Trahearne’s sword cut through his robes while Libitira’s icicles pierced his body.

“The dragon commands, and we answer. All will serve Zhaitan!” Stormbreak shouted, sending shards of coral towards his enemies. Trahearne moved to dodge, but a few still grazed his leg and side and he stumbled. Libitira called out to him and cast a well of healing under him. The wounds healed instantly, and the lich yelled in frustration.

“Oi, Dzhudin!” she taunted, launching an orb of poison magic at him. “Catch!”

The ball hit him across the head and burst, and he groaned as the poison seized his undead body. “ENOUGH!” he yelled, swiping at her and catching her shoulder with his claws. “You will die, then rise, and I will see you destroy your own allies!”

His magic sent her flying across the battlefield, head hitting a sharp rock protruding from the ground. Her vision went white a moment, ears ringing. That was going to be a bad concussion.

She could hear Trahearne call her name, but it sounded muffled, far off. Her vision swam, but she could make out Trahearne’s blurry figure fighting the lich. His expression was furious. Shadows began pooling at his feet, and she knew that he was summoning his shroud. The Marshal leapt in the air, kicking Stormbreak directly in the face and the lich stumbled back, disorientated. Before he could regain his senses, Trahearne drove Caladbolg through him.

The lich choked, but even as the life was leaving him, he chuckled. “You may have won here, but Zhaitan will retaliate. He will see you dead yet, _Marshal Trahearne_.”

Trahearne twisted the sword in Stormbreak’s chest. “I’ve had enough of your monologuing.”

Stormbreak’s spirit dissipated in the air. All that was left was the torn cloak that fluttered to the ground, steadily crumbling into nothingness with the wind. The Risen that were with him were also finished off by the Priory scholars. They had safely rescued the team.

Libitira tried to sit up, but her head spun. “Marshal Trahearne, I can’t…”

He was immediately by her side, helping her into a sitting position. “Easy, Libitira. You have a concussion, and you’re bleeding badly.” Sure enough, the lich’s claws had torn her armor and she now had three large gashes in her shoulder, which were bleeding profusely. Trahearne pressed his hand against the wound to stop the flow of blood and Libitira yelped. He turned to the crusader who was standing close behind. “Afanen, help me carry her back to camp. Agent Zrii, notify the menders we have injured.”

“Hey, Trahearne…” Libitira’s words came out slurred, and she grinned deliriously. “Has your glow always been purple? I could’ve sworn it was gold at some point…”

Trahearne chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, Commander, let’s get you healed.”

* * *

Agrona whistled after Libitira’s reminiscence. “Well, I never want to be on the Marshal’s bad side when he gets back.”

Libitira laughed, “I highly doubt he wouldn’t like you. Unless you intentionally tried to piss him off.”

“And risk my position in the Pact? I’d rather fight Zhaitan twice.” The two women chuckled.

Libitira finished her carving and tossed it to Agrona. “Here. A small gift for good luck.”

Agrona caught it and inspected it in the distant firelight. She whooped. “Awesome, a figure of Balthazar! How did you know he’s my patron god?”

“Lucky guess.” As if she couldn’t tell from personality alone who would support this girl, a.k.a chaos incarnate.

Agrona tucked it into her coat pocket and patted it proudly. “Wow, a gift from the Commander herself. The boys in the barracks will be so jealous.” Libitira nudged her playfully in the shoulder and the human snickered.

“C’mon, we should probably get some sleep. There’s work to be done tomorrow.” Libitira stood up and made her way back to the camp. Everyone else had fallen asleep already, evident by Braham’s extremely obnoxious snoring and Kasmeer’s occasional murmurs in her slumber. Libitira and Agrona set up their cots as quietly as they could, and as soon as the brunette was under the covers she was dead to the world.

Libitira stared up at the canopy a little while longer, listening to Braham’s snores and the sounds of the jungle around them. Eventually the white noise lulled her into a deep, thankfully dreamless sleep.


	3. Mind and Memory

The blinding headache that seared through his skull when he first soared over Maguuma had eventually numbed down to a persistent throbbing as Mordremoth tried to force his way into his mind. Trahearne refused to give into the call, the taunting words of the dragon. 

The convoy traveled through the trees, so deep in the jungle none of the survivors of the fleet would find them. Trahearne was laying in one of the cages, in too much pain to move, while the other Mordrem carted the unconscious bodies of Logan, Eir, and Zojja behind them. Along with the other injured, dying, or dead members of the Pact.

He looked up at the stars with desolate eyes. Would anyone be able to find them before it was too late? Yes, Libitira would find them. She wouldn’t abandon them now.

**“Let go and serve me.”** The voice of Mordremoth whispered suddenly, and the pain increased tenfold. **“Obey your creator.”**

Trahearne groaned in pain but resisted the invasion, hissing, “I’d rather die.”

**“You will fall eventually,”** Mordremoth purred, **“And when you do, I’ll make you kill your commander that is so dear to you. I’ll let go for just long enough for you to see what you’ve done, and then you’re mine.”**

The threat made his concentration falter, terror seizing his heart at the thought. Mordremoth lashed out in that single second of weakness, managing to take control of Trahearne’s arm and grab Caladbolg. He held his traitorous arm back before he could hurt the wide-eyed, young Pact scout beside him, and yelled in pain as he used all his might to force Mordremoth out.

Mordremoth guffawed. **“It will get harder. You cannot resist my control forever. I am all, and I will rule all.”**

The last thing Trahearne saw before he blacked out was the rising full moon peeking through the canopy branches. And then nothingness.

* * *

“Undead ships have cut off trade routes from Lion’s Arch to Fort Trinity. Vigil crusaders have sent a fleet in order to destroy the ships, but they are in need of more supplies.-”  
  
Trahearne sighed as he put down the letter and ran a hand down his face. Zhaitan and his Risen had been growing bolder since the Pact retook Claw Island. Disrupting trade routes, raiding caravans, destroying camps. With every new attack they gained more soldiers and the Pact lost them. It was becoming too much to handle.  
  
Commander Libitira was out there too, fighting them everyday. Even though he knew very well she could handle herself, he couldn’t help worry. What if the next letter he received from her was the last? What if the next time they met it would be on opposite sides of the battlefield? The stress from leading the Pact and worrying about his commander plagued him nightly.  
  
When was the last time he actually slept? Trahearne counted in his mind and concluded that it had been nearly a week since he rested. Even though the thought made a pit sink in his stomach, he smothered it to focus again. However he found that the words he tried to read were blurry. Trahearne blinked twice but his vision wouldn’t focus.  
  
He was so absorbed in his task, he didn’t even notice the norn woman enter the room until he felt a hand on his back. He looked up, and his vision cleared enough to see Libitira’s gentle face staring down at him. “Good evening, Marshal.” she greeted him, before placing a cup of steaming tea on his desk, next to the full yet cold one a soldier brought in yesterday.  
  
There were new healing wounds on her, a faint pink line across her chest, a few nicks cutting through her brow. But it was still the same Libitira. His heart swelled with relief that she was here again.  
  
“Commander… it is good to see you again.” he said. “Is it evening already?”  
  
“Closer to midnight. How long have you been awake, sir?”  
  
“Six days.”  
  
“Trahearne!” she scolded, and he grinned feebly. “I leave for a month and your health is already in shambles. Honestly, Marshal…”  
  
“The war has been difficult. Undead have been cutting off supply lines from Lion’s Arch. I need to send an order-”  
  
Libitira snatched the letter from his hands and held it above her head. “The only thing you will be doing right now is resting. I can handle this.”  
  
“Libitira, give me my paper back.”  
  
“Either go to sleep or I’ll make sure you see none of this paperwork by morning.” The stubborn look on her face told him he would not be winning this battle. Besides, he didn’t think he had the strength to try and jump up to her level (which was hard enough when he was at full energy). Slowly the sylvari got up from the table on shaky legs. Libitira held out her hand and he took it gratefully. The norn helped him walk to the hammock that was his bed and crawl on top of it. She grabbed the cup of tea and held it out to him, “Drink. Since you haven’t slept in six days, I doubt you’ve eaten well either.”  
  
“The last thing I ate was an apple.” He admitted bashfully.  
  
Libitira gave him a look before exiting the tent. While she was gone, Trahearne downed the cup of tea in two gulps, sighing as the pangs of hunger slowly lessening. She came a few moments later with a roll and a bowl of soup. Trahearne never thought a meal tasted so delicious, and it was only war rations. Libitira stayed with him the entire time, watching him finish everything down to the last morsel. She smiled as she took the plate from him and set it aside.  
  
“There, now please sleep, Marshal.” The Commander ran her fingers through the leaves that made up his hair. The action was calming, and Trahearne soon found his eyelids growing heavily. “You would make an excellent mother, Commander.” he murmured, and Libitira chuckled softly.  
  
As she continued to stroke his hair, she began humming softly. The melody was light and soothing, and he asked. “What is that tune?”  
  
“An old melody my mother used to sing to me. The Hymn for the Ascendant. The lyrics tell the story of a hero rising to face the dragon Jormag. Some have considered it a prophecy.” She explained, then softly began to sing,  
  
_“Ice and snow cover the wasteland_  
_yet you, wandering child, continue forth_  
_into the storm, caution damned._  
_The dragon roars in the north_  
_and you, our ascendant, stand tall_  
_the full moon rises, and you answer your call.”_

By the time she finished the last verse, Trahearne was fast asleep. She smiled, running her fingers through his hair one last time, before softly walking to the desk. She had a lot of work to do.

* * *

The memory was a short reprieve. As the cart came to a bumpy halt, Trahearne was jarred awake when his head hit the wall hard. The call was so much stronger here; Mordremoth was so close, his presence bearing down on the sylvari. The headache had returned in full force, and Trahearne clutched his head to keep the dragon out. Fortunately in that moment, it seemed like the dragon wasn't keen on taking control of him.

“Leave the norn here and take the rest to the Heart of Maguuma," one of the Mordrem said. As he slept, the rest of Destiny's Edge must have woken up. Eir fought against the two guards pulled her out of her cage, Zojja also holding onto her for dear life. 

"No, leave her alone!" the asura shouted, then cried out when she received a boot to the face. She stumbled back and hit the floor hard, knocked unconscious again.

"Zojja!" Eir exclaimed, and in that moment of faltering the Mordrem pulled her the rest of the way out. She was tossed into a cage and the vines quickly closed around her. 

The Mordrem chuckled. "Hope you like your new cellmate, Faolain."

Trahearne whipped around to see the duchess shrieking at the guard. She caught his eye and her eyes widened in shock, then quickly narrowing into a cold glare. "Greetings, Firstborn. Don't tell me the jungle dragon took down your entire Pact, did he?"

"No, there is still Libitira and the others," he retorted. Faolain only snorted.

"You better hope your Commander gets here soon. I can only imagine what Mordremoth plans to do to you."


	4. Thorns and Demolition

The next day was cycle of worry, hope, and frustration. The group traveled to each camp the Pact had managed to set up, asking scouts if they had seen any sign of Destiny's Edge or Marshal Trahearne. They all said the same thing: they were seen heading south. Being carted further into Maguuma for some unknown reason.

The frustration was taking its toll on Libitira as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Thank you for your information. We will be scouting ahead for paths into the Heart of Maguuma to rescue the Marshal and Destiny’s Edge.”

The group was tense, sensing the Commander’s seething anger. Only Taimi and Braham were brave enough to talk to her, while Jory and Kasmeer and Agrona and Canach stayed in their little pairs.

As Libitira discussed the discovery of a hylek tribe with a few scouts and Taimi, Agrona handed her water canteen over to Canach. “So how’s life been, you dumb plant? Nice new look by the way, the cactus hair really suits your personality.”

“Shut up, you stupid pyromaniac.” Canach rolled his eyes, and Agrona cackled. “Things have been… interesting.”

“How so?”

“Oh you know, just the casual fighting some crazy sylvari girl with her giant drill waking up an Elder Dragon. Nothing too special but still entertaining.”

“Oh yes, yes of course.” Agrona nodded along.

“How about you? How the hell did you end up with the Pale Reavers?” Canach asked.

Agrona chuckled nervously and scratched the back of her neck. “Oh you knowww… A few drinks and bets too many and I take the place one of them on the airships during the conquest of Maguuma. I swear that sneaky nightbloom was cheating somehow.”

Canach laughed. “Still the same gambling, drinking thief I knew in Divinity’s Reach.”

“Hey, I got better,” Agrona pouted, sticking her tongue out at him, “I’m not stealing the bombs anymore, I’m _making_ them. Bigger and better too.”

“Well, I sure hope to see those bombs put to good use.” He teased.

Agrona poked him in the chest hard. “Listen up, prickly pear, as soon as we get the Marshal and Destiny’s Edge out of the jungle, I’m blowing this place up a mile high. I never want to deal with this stupid dragon again.”

Canach’s eyebrows rose. “Someone’s got quite the grudge.”

“His stupid Mordrem beat me up and gave me this,” she pulled up her shirt. Vines and thorns fused with marred, blackened skin along her hip. Canach reeled back from the sight, and she put the shirt back down. “Fuckers gave me that as a little prelude to what Mordremoth planned to do with me. Turn my corpse into another one of his thrall.”

“Agrona…” Canach began.

She waved him off. “Oh don’t give me that tone. I’m fine; I just want this bastard dead.”

Their conversation was cut short when Libitira walked up to them. “Let’s move. There’s a village of Itzel nearby, and we’re going to see if they know anything about Mordremoth’s prisoners. At least, more than these useless scouts know.”

Agrona and Canach glanced at each other, both noting Libitira’s harsh tone. They both got up very quickly and followed the Commander out into the open jungle.

* * *

She’d snuck into this place a thousand times; she knew these barracks like they were the back of her hand. Agrona’s steps were quick and quiet as she crept along the wall of the corridor, heading to the room she knew would be a jackpot of ammunition. She’d memorized the schedules of the Shining Blade and the Seraph, and knew only some lost idiot would be down here at this time when it was their supper break.

Agrona smirked when she saw the new lock on the door. Countess Anise could put a lock the size of Balthazar’s helmet on this door, and she’d still find a way through it. Pulling a pin out of her small braid and a piece of scrap metal from her pocket, she crouched in front of the door and steadily began to pick the lock. When the satisfying click told her she had successfully unlocked it, she all but whistled as she sashayed into the room.

“There you are, ya beauties,” she cooed, taking in all the boxes and stacks of dynamite and gunpowder. It was arsonist’s heaven in that room. She took her time going through the boxes, checking each label to see which would bring the most boom. Two-Blade Pete and his bandits would be paying for their cockiness soon enough.

“Knock, knock,” a voice drawled from behind her. On instinct, she whipped out her pistol and pointed it at the intruder. Well, she was the real intruder but he was intruding on her _moment_.

A bored-looking sylvari leaning against the door-frame looked between the pistol and Agrona. Must be a new recruit to the Shining Blade. She hadn’t seen his face before, and she knew everyone in Divinity’s Reach. “I seem to recall you lot should be upstairs dining, no?”

“I seem to recall civilians are strictly prohibited from entering the barracks. And yet here we are.”

Agrona pursed her lips before shrugging. She cautiously lowered her pistol. “Touche. Are you going to arrest me yet or not?”

The sylvari tapped his chin, as if thinking about it. “Technically I don’t have to, because the only crime you’ve committed so far is trespassing and that can be solved by quickly giving you the boot so… Which do you prefer?”

“The boot, thank you.” Agrona said swiftly, already out the door and moving fast down the hallway. The sylvari blinked, then chuckled as he followed her.

“I get the feeling you come here often?”

“Oh, only every full moon or so.” Agrona shrugged. “Just to pick up a few supplies to mess with the bandits. Sometimes you just have to cause a little chaos.”

“You know you could always just… join the Seraph or Shining Blade.” The sylvari offered.

She looked back and him and smirked mischievously. “And where’s the fun in that?”

The sylvari opened the door that led to the common streets of Divinity’s Reach. “Your exit, Miss Arsonist.”

“Call me Agrona, Sir Plantsalot.” She teased, winking at him.

“Then you can call me Canach, Agrona.” He replied.

Before he could fully shut the door, Agrona held on for a moment. “You look like a guy who could use a drink and a little gambling. Why don’t you come down with me to the bar a bit later and have a little fun?”

* * *

Agrona trailed close behind the Commander, occasionally glancing up at the back of her head. It was strange seeing the Commander so close. She had only ever seen her from afar, leading the troops like she was born to be a general. She remembered the attack on Fort Trinity, how Libitira’s voice inspired the troops to fight, to not give in.

She’d just placed in the beacon, standing on the tower that overlooked the entire fort with the blue light shining off her hair and armor. She looked like a goddess of victory, rallying her troops to battle. Her voice carried across the battlefield, “For the Pact!!”

The sound still sent chills down her spine when she thought about it.

She could sense that same determination to save the fort now in her again as she raced against time to save her friends. Agrona could only hope they would be able to reach them in time.

“So, boss—sorry, Commander—” Braham spoke up, “did you learn anything from the other survivors?”

“The Pact soldiers all talk about prisoners being taken deeper into the jungle.” Libitira’s words were clipped, tired of the same sentence being repeated over and over.

“Then we need to go deeper into the jungle. I'm ready.”

That made Libitira stop. She turned to look at Braham critically. “Hold on. We don't know this region, and it would be suicide to just blindly scour the jungle. There are potentially friendly hylek nearby, and we could use their help in mapping out the area.”

“For what? You saw what we did to those Mordrem that attacked the camp-- We can handle anything this jungle throws at us. We know where to look. Let's start looking.”

Libitira’s expression turned even more sour, and Agrona backed up a little bit. “Not without better intel. This place hasn’t been explored for decades, more enemies could lurk at any corner. We're in Mordremoth's territory, and I won't let us get ambushed like the fleet was.”

“But we're not--” Braham began to argue further, but then sighed in defeat, “Okay, fine. Let's talk to these hylek of yours.”

Libitira nodded and continued forth without another word. Braham looked down at Agrona, who was watching the entire conversation. She held her hands up and said, “I’d prefer not to get involved, Eirsson. I can tell the Commander’s not in the best of moods.”


	5. The Jungle Provides

The sound of light, quick footsteps caught Libitira’s attention, and her grip on her staff tightened. Placing a hand out to stop the rest of the group, she peeked out from behind one of the trees. Instead of the Mordrem she expected to see, she saw a strange hylek rushing toward the canyon. He was much larger than any hylek she’s ever seen, with bright green skin and red eyes that took up half of his head.

“Ibli!” The hylek scout called out to someone. “The plant ghouls are back. Archers, arrows ready!”

On his tail were five Mordrem guards, quickly gaining on him. Libitira turned to the rest of the group. “Mordrem Guard. Let's show these new hylek which side we're on. Move out!”

The group charged into the canyon, where a battle between the hylek and Mordrem had already started. Two more hylek joined the scout, and one of them almost made Libitira stop in her tracks. He was massive, twice the height of the Commander. His hammer knocked the Mordrem over like they were little more than pins.

Another wave of Mordrem rushed at them from behind, and the group turned to fight alongside the hylek, whose archers were now watching them curiously as they fired their volleys. Libitira used her staff to swipe the feet out from under him and crushed his nose with her foot. Agrona, now equipped with a simple pistol shot twice, hitting one in the shoulder and the other straight in the back of the head. At her back was Canach, slashing at the Mordrem with his chain-whip sword.

“What do you say, Canach? Wanna do the classic Dead Man's Hand?” Agrona said as she fired another shot at a Mordrem getting too close for comfort.

Canach bashed in the nearest Mordrem and rolled his eyes. “You and I both know that never worked as well as Blind Raise did!”

That made Agrona pause. “Huh… you’re right!”

Without a second thought, Agrona tossed a bomb in the air, and as it fell back down Canach hit it with his shield. It flew into the enemy Mordrem, exploding with a hot white light. The Mordrem recoiled as they were blinded, but Agrona and Canach’s eyes were protected behind the shield. Libitira took notice of the dazed Mordrem.

“Braham, give me a lift!” Libitira called out, running to him. He knelt down as Libitira leapt, catching her foot in his hands and sending her further up in the air. Her shroud formed around her, staff transforming into a large scythe, and she slammed the blade down into the ground. Ice burst around her in waves, crippling the blind Mordrem around her.

Agrona whistled. “Can we call that one Blind Freeze?”

“Deal.” Canach agreed.

The remaining Mordrem looked at the shrouded commander, whose glowing eyes were full of hate. They retreated faster than what Libitira thought was possible with their heavy armor.

Her magic faded away, and the normal Libitira glared holes into the backs of the retreating duo. She was tempted to go after them just to thin Mordremoth’s army just a little bit more, but decided against it when the hylek walked up to the group.

“Glad you strangers showed up.” The teal one said, looking over the entire group, “I am Ibli, of the Itzel hylek. Welcome, and thank you.”

Libitira nodded. “I'm glad we could help. We've also lost people to the Mordrem, and we'd like your assistance in getting them back.”

“Of course. We have a common enemy. We need to warn our village, but come with us and meet our kaana-” He stopped himself when he realized they wouldn’t know what that meant, and thought for a moment. “... chieftain. We can't help you if we're not safe… but if you help us secure the village, I'm sure the kaana will offer her support.”

Libitira smiled, pleased to finally be making some progress. “Excellent. Let me speak with my people, and then we'll be honored to meet your chieftain.”

The rest of the group was waiting for her at the edge of the canyon, staring that the much larger hylek next to Ibli warily. Braham was the first to speak up, “Eir and the others are in danger. I'm not going to waste time making introductions. I volunteer to scout ahead.”

Canach made a noise of disagreement and crossed his arms. “Bad idea. We can't risk getting separated. I also prefer to work alone, but we don't always get what we want.”

It was the blindfolded charr that stepped forward to defend Braham. “I'll go with Eirsson. We'll pick up the trail while the rest of you make contact with these Itzel.”

Libitira narrowed her eyes as she stared up at Rytlock Brimstone. Ever since he’d come back from the Mists, she knew something was off.

* * *

“I want two pairs of Pale Reavers at every entrance! Keep the injured in the tents with however many menders we have. Archers, ready your arrows! We will hold this encampment!” Libitira barked orders at the Pact soldiers. Despite the camp’s small size, the area was bustling with activity, the sound of turrets being hammered into place and heavy footfalls loud in her ears. Scouts had returned with news that a small Mordrem platoon was heading their way to wipe out the camp, so the Commander quickly went to work getting everything prepared for the battle.

A certain mop of brown hair sneaking out of the camp caught her attention and she called out, “Vass, get back in the mender’s tent!”

Agrona froze like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar; only instead her hands were full of homemade explosives. Her head slowly turned back to look at Libitira and she grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Commander, I’m just too busy. Elixirs to make, turrets to set up, _bombs to plant_ -”

Libitira’s only reply was a raised brow. The human shuffled back into the tent and sat down with a huff.

“Keep an eye on her,” she mentioned to the mender, who replied with a firm salute to Libitira and a glare at the stubborn woman.

Libitira walked to stand with her group, who were all waiting at the front of the encampment. Everything was ready for the Mordrem when they arrived.

Rox could sense Braham’s troubled aura, and she put a comforting paw on his shoulder. “Don't worry, Braham. We'll find and free Destiny's Edge just like we did those prisoners.”

Braham nodded, but he didn’t seem very reassured. “Thanks, Rox. I'd feel a lot better if we had any idea what happened to them.”

Before they could continue, a Whispers agent called from above. “The Mordrem are coming from the north!”

A heavy silence fell over the small camp as everyone anxiously waited for the Mordrem to arrive. The Pale Reavers cocked their guns, all pointed at the corner the enemy would turn at any second. The silence was only broken by the occasional shift of a foot or unsheathing of a blade. Libitira’s ears burned as she tried to listen for far-off marching. After a moment, she could hear the first wave approaching.

A gnarled boot peaked out from around the corner.

“FIRE!!”

The first five Mordrem to pass the corner didn’t know what hit them. As soon as their heads were in sight, the Pale Reavers shot. They crumbled like paper dolls. The next group behind them were more prepared, however. The Mordrem snipers fired arrows quickly; Libitira just barely dodged one that would’ve hit her shoulder.

“More Mordrem from the east!” The Whispers agent called again before shooting at the smaller wave. Shit, they were outnumbered. She needed to level the playing field fast.

“Marjory, Kasmeer, Canach, take the east wave! Braham, Taimi, Rox, you’re with me in the front,” Libitira ordered. The three separated from the group, and the rest turned back to the frontal wave.

Taimi yelped when she saw what emerged at the back of the army. A much larger Mordrem, riding a beast with a spear in hand. The mordrem charged, knocking back anyone who was in his way. As a Whispers agent bashed down a lesser Mordrem, she was impaled by the rider.

“We need to get him off his mount!” Rox called as she shot arrows at the monster. He merely batted them away like gnats.

Suddenly, the air was charged with energy. Libitira felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle up as she looked behind her and saw a wisp of white mist growing. A figure jumped out, a charr wearing strange armor and a blindfold. His sword was flaming as he pointed it at the rider.

“Sharpen your blades and guard your vitals―I'm back!” Rytlock Brimstone’s voice echoed over the battlefield. He held his hand to the sky, and a ghostly figure of a dragon formed behind him. When he pointed at the rider, the dragon flew across the area and knocked him off his mount. The rider roared, eyes fixated on the charr.

Rytlock dropped from the ledge and joined the battle. The five of them surrounded the Mordrem Cavalier, weaving in and out of its range and jabbing attacks. Libitira had never seen Rytlock fight like this. What on earth happened when he was in the Mists?

In a moment of stumbling from Taimi’s blows, the Mordrem was impaled by the tribune’s sword and he gargled, falling limb. Rytlock yanked his sword and then turned to the Commander.

“Hope you don't mind me joining in, Commander. It looked like you could use some help.” He said. Libitira didn’t reply, but Rox rushed up to him.

“Tribune? You’re alive!” She exclaimed happily, “But where have you been? And what's that new magic you're using?”

Rytlock patted her on the shoulder. “Later, cub. All you need to know is that I'm back and I'm better than ever.”

Libitira’s gaze followed him as he walked past her, toward the next wave of Mordrem incoming. His energy was all off; she could sense the strange aura the Mists had left on him. But there was no time to dwell on the matter. She had a camp to protect.

* * *

Libitira took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Alright. Rytlock and Braham, see what you can see and don't go too far without us.” Her stare was specifically pointed at Braham, who huffed indignantly. “The rest of you, with me.”

As they parted ways, she overheard Braham whisper to the charr, “Thanks for backing me up, Tribune.”

Rytlock’s nose scrunched up. “Don't mention it. I just hope the commander keeps a keen eye on your sylvari.”

Braham’s expression turned confused and slightly bitter as he replied, “Canach? He's not one of us. He just shows up when Countess Anise sics him on us-- OW!”

Libitira looked back and saw Braham rubbing the back of his head, muttering about something hitting him. Immediately she turned back, and saw Agrona tossing a stone in her hand, prepared to fire another if he said anything more. When she caught the commander’s gaze, she quickly tossed the rock over her shoulder and whistled innocently as she followed the others.

“Anyway, thanks again for--” Braham began to say again.

“I said don't mention it,” Rytlock snarled. “Pick up the pace, kid—we've got ground to cover.”


	6. Old Books and Candle Smoke

“Are all sylvari houses like this or is this Firstborn favoritism?” Libitira teased as she stepped into the main room. Trahearne watched as she wandered about the space curiously. She walked to the desk which still held a few books from the last time he was here and ran her finger long the wood, picking up the thin layer of dust coating it. She turned back to him with a coy grin. “Dust much?”

“It’s been a few years since I came back here. You know how much time I spent in Orr.” Trahearne explained with a shrug.

“That’s true, but don’t you ever stop by home once in while? Visit your siblings?” Libitira asked.

Trahearne tensed, and Libitira stood straighter, immediately noticing his discomfort. She really did know him that well, didn’t she? Not meeting her eyes, he began, “The Grove should feel like home for me, but… it doesn’t. It never has.”

Her lips pursed as she understood what he was saying. “Don’t really fit in much here?”

He shook his head. A sharp pang struck his heart as he continued, “I studied necromancy for my Wyld Hunt, to fight the corruption infecting Orr. My choice… didn’t win me many friends. Caithe’s the only one who ever seems genuinely happy to see me.”

Libitira said nothing, her eyes filled with sadness for him. He tried to smile to reassure her that he was fine, but it came out as more of a grimace. “We should… We should prepare for the meeting with the Pale Tree.”

“Trahearne…” Libitira said, opening her arms, “Come here.”

There was a hesitant moment where he just wanted to change the topic again, but reluctantly he stepped toward her. She took his hands, sitting on the couch and then gently tugging him down until he was laying on top of her with his head on her shoulder. She always smelled the same no matter where she went, of old books and candle smoke. He prayed she wouldn’t be able to feel how hard his heart was beating.

“It is hard,” she murmured as she stared at the ceiling, “Being the outcast of your people. I too was like that with the norn, but I realized that doing what is right is far more important than what others think of you. Home and family are not always places of origin or people who share your blood. They are the places or people that make us feel most comfortable, the people we can be ourselves with.”

Trahearne looked up at her, mapping out the tiny freckles across her nose he could only see this close. When she looked down at him, he quickly averted his eyes as his glow brightened.

“I like that idea of home much better.”

* * *

The prisoner caravan had stopped for the moment to let the beasts rest and for the Mordrem guards to be debriefed by the head of the encampment. Trahearne leaned against the vine cage, lucid since the dragon was apparently occupied with other more pressing matters. He could tell the dragon was seething with restrained rage but why, he did not know.

Two Mordrem were discussing a skirmish that had occurred recently in the Verdant Brink next to a nearby tree. He could only pick up a few words from the whispering one. One word stood out among the rest, and he straightened quickly.

“Advance--... Pact Commander was… Itzel village…”

Trahearne listened harder, trying desperately to hear what they were saying. Libitira was here, she was in Maguuma. She was coming for them.

“She took out the blighting pods?!” the other Mordrem roared loud enough for him to hear as if it were right next to his ear. “Those were going to supply our next cavalry!” So that was what Mordremoth was so enraged about. “Please tell me you took out that growing nuisance after that.”

“Well… no. The rest of our troops fled after seeing the damage she caused. Sir, it was horrifying. She has this team- They’re unstoppable.”

Pride bloomed in Trahearne’s chest, knowing that the Mordrem -- therefore, _the dragon_ \-- were afraid of her, but it was quickly smothered with the Mordrem’s next words, “She’s nothing more than a reckless norn with some cheap necromancer tricks. Put an end to this little Commander before she gains anymore allies. Her body will be fuel for a newer, stronger generation of Mordrem. Just like those two over there.” Trahearne's sap ran cold when he pointed to none other than Logan and Zojja.


	7. Prisoners of the Dragon I

“Thank you for all your help, Commander,” Ibli said as they walked through the now safe village, still recovering from the attack. “If there is anything I could do to help, just ask.”

“There actually is something I was hoping you’d help me with,” Libi replied. “Two of my people went ahead to look for the prisoner convoy. I want to know if any of your scouts have seen them.”

The hylek thought for a moment, humming to himself. “The Mordrem took many of our best scouts, but there are three still in the field who can help you find your friends.”

Libitira breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “That sounds promising. Where may I find these scouts?”

“Imal is closest, so I'll send you to her first. Though… You’re going to need this to get to her.” As they passed an open shop, Ibli motioned to the vendor. The green hylek nodded quickly before hurrying to the back. When he came out again, he carried a strange contraption that he present to Libitira.

It looked like a pair of cloth wings, a wooden bone structure covered by durable pieces of tarp. In the pockets of sunlight it glittered, and Libitira reached out to touch it. “What… is this?”

“It’s a glider. We’ve seen some clever engineers from the crash fashion them from the remains of the fleet and decided to make one ourselves. I think it’ll come in handy as you travel further into the jungle.” Ilbi explained proudly.

“Here, let me help,” the vendor said, motioning for Libitira to turn around. When she did, he hooked the harness up and around her shoulders so that it fit snugly on her back. 

Libitira rolled her shoulders a few times, making sure it wouldn’t pinch anywhere. It felt like an extension of her bones, like she truly had wings. “How do I use it?”

“Simply jump from a high enough place and the wings will open up! We’ve had it tested plenty of times so it’s completely safe.” The vendor said. “There’s also this-” He pressed a button on the back and the wings folded so that it fit like a backpack. “-for when you’re not using it!” He pressed it again so the wings popped back out with a small creak.

She thought about it for a moment, looking at the edge of the walkway. With a devious smirk as their only warning, she charged and leapt off the platform, arms stretched wide as gravity took hold of her. 

* * *

With the help of the scouts, the group tracked down Braham and Rytlock some distance in the jungle. Passing the hostile Coztic village safely with Kasmeer’s disguises, they climbed down an ancient hollow tree trunk and heard low arguing voices echo from outside. Libitira slid down the mossy wood to see Braham and Rytlock arguing in hushed tones, before closing their mouths as soon as they saw the Commander.

“What did I say about scouting too far ahead?” She started, putting her hands on her hips. 

“We spotted a Mordrem prison caravan after you guys left.” Braham confessed. “We followed it, and it led us to this camp.”

“And I take it you both knew very well what could have happened if you had been discovered?” Her tone was full of false sweetness, and it made a few of the others cast concerned glances at each other.

Rytlock snorted. “No risk, no reward. I made the call, Eirsson backed me up. We thought it was worth the risk. We were right.”

There was a tense moment where Libitira stared at the two scouts critically. Braham couldn’t meet her eyes, but Rytlock kept his gaze firm. After a minute where it seemed everyone was holding their breath, she shrugged. “Fair enough. Now, how heavily defended is this camp of yours?”

“Very. The Mordrem Guard are not mindless. They set up a strong defensive perimeter, and they know how to patrol it.”

Canach spoke up. “Brimstone is right. The Mordrem Guard are sharp. Precise. They must know we're coming.”

“That doesn't matter now. There are prisoners here, and our friends might be among them. We're going in. Rytlock, you lead the way.” Libitira motioned for him to lead and he started up the slope. “What's your assessment of the situation here?”

“This seems to be a large-scale prisoner containment camp.” He explained as they crossed the natural bridge. “The Mordrem Guard goes out, collects living and dead bodies, and brings them here.”

“Then this is where they grow all the Mordrem we've been fighting? Part prison camp, part minion factory.” Kasmeer shuddered.

Agrona smirked, but her eyes were burning with disgust and anger. “So this was going to be my new home if they’d gotten us any further in the jungle. Not as cozy as I’d hoped.”

Rytlock stopped and sniffed the air. “There's no easy access, but at least one member of Destiny's Edge is here. I can… feel it.”

The comment almost made Libitira trip. Destiny’s Edge… Could that mean?

* * *

It was supposed to be a day of celebration. The legendary Eir Stegalkin was finally returning after taking on the Elder Dragon Kralkatorrik. There was going to be moots and the skalds were going to sing her praises. She was supposed to come back in a blaze of glory, having slayed one of the greatest monsters plaguing Tyria.

What came back was a shell-shocked woman barely holding it together.

She remembered seeing Eir step out of the asuran portal with her head down and shoulders hunched. The woman was not at all what she was before, and it made Libitira clutch her stuffed animal closer to her chest in concern. Norn who noticed her entrance gave her harsh glares and disgusted looks, some even shouted obscenities at her. Eir took them with what little strength she had left. A deep breath. She squared her shoulders and began walking back to her homestead, Garm trotting loyally behind her.

While Cygnus was busy discussing something with Knut Whitebear, the ten-year-old rushed up to the woman. Eir stopped, blinking twice when she saw an extraordinarily scrawny girl with a stuffed raven toy squished in her arms suddenly block her path. The girl had her black hair styled exactly like her own, a short bob with a side braid and long ponytail in the back. She even had a similar, albeit much smaller, headband.

“Miss Eir!” She said, eyes shining with awe, “Did you defeat the mean dragon Kralkotarrit?”

Eir sighed and managed a half-smile as she patted the child on the head. “No, child, I did not.”

Libitira pouted. “Awww…” Just as soon her somber mood had come, it was replaced with fierce happiness. “That’s okay! There’s always next time!”

The half-smile crumbled like dust as Eir’s facade shattered. Libitira stared in shock as her idol’s eyes began to fill with tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t think there will be a next time.”

“But… But you’re so courageous and strong, you have to...” Libitira muttered. She dug her fingernails into her palms, squeezing the poor toy. “I’ll go with you next time! That way you’ve got everyone you need!”

“No, child, please,” Eir said as she knelt down to Libitira’s level and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here in Hoelbrak. Build your legend around something else.”

“I want to share my legend with you, though!” She whined, stomping her foot. “When I grow up, we’re going to fight the Elder Dragons together!”

Before Eir could respond to the child, Cygnus hurried to them and grabbed her daughter, apologizing profusely to the other woman. Eir assured her it was no hassle, and the blonde began to lead Libitira away. Libi took one last glance at her idol. Her sad expression had not disappeared, but there was a new light in her eyes. A spark of hope.

* * *

To cover up the sudden sad memory, Libitira answered Rytlock snarkily. “Feelings? From a soldier like you?” 

The tribune snarled at her. “Cut me some slack. I'm still getting used to this new magic and...how to describe it.” He pointed to a small entrance at the top of the staircase, conveniently hidden by hanging vines and leaves. “There’s the way in. Follow me.”

The group crept up to the small entrance, careful not to make a sound. They could hear Mordrem mucking about on the other side of the vine curtain. Libitira snuck forward and carefully moved the leaves out of the way so that she could see inside.

A Mordrem Guard watched as the lesser minions dragged or carried corpses to and fro different places. When one of them fell behind he barked, “Faster! The Overseer's orders come straight from the dragon. We need to be ready for the next load of corpses.”

Rytlock’s voice was close behind her. “If we can do enough damage to this facility, it'll disrupt Mordremoth's progress in the whole region.”

“A member of Destiny’s Edge and completely wrecking his progress for a while? That’s an opportunity we can’t ignore.” Agrona muttered further behind them.

Libitira took a deep breath and nodded. “We go in, now.”

Rytlock pushed past the Commander and held out his hand. A strange symbol she’d never seen before formed in the air and the vines crumbled away into dust. He turned to the group again. “If things get ugly, stand near me. I can boost your strength.”

“Allow me to initiate.” Agrona grinned deviously before pulling out a few grenades. She rushed into the cave entrance and rolled them on the ground. The Mordrem trolls immediately heard the clink of metal against the stone and watched the bomb roll to them and stop at their feet. They only had a moment to look at each other in fear before they went off. 

As shrapnel tore through their bodies, the rest of the group emerged and fought off the husks. Libitira quickly silenced the Guard before he could call for help, creeping up behind him and snapping his neck. It was almost too easy to sneak up on the unsuspecting Mordrem, and within minutes they were decimated. 

“This is where they pile up the dead prisoners,” Rytlock commented as he looked around. The scent of decomposition and rot made Kasmeer gag, and Marjory covered her nose in disgust. Libitira, however, seemed unaffected.

“We're done here. Let's move on to the main encampment.” She said, jogging further into the cave. On the other side, she found another tangled of vines blocking her way and she growled in frustration. Right before the commander could cast her spell to remove the bothersome plants, Rytlock put his hand on her shoulder and extended the other. The rune returned and the vines shrank away from it.

Libitira nodded in gratitude and lead the party up the staircase. They were going to find that member of Destiny’s Edge today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who decided to split this part in two because it was going to be WICKED LONG if i tried to keep the whole thing in one chapterrrr


End file.
